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Topic: 07.15.2127 - Auvyndyr Trial (Read 5485 times)

The site of the Judge was intimidating. With the pair of guards at his side he looked down right commanding. She thought of him as a judge and nothing more. To give him a name assumed that he was actually worthy of one. Shannon would not think of him worthy of anything except her scorn.

"The art is incredible and the soaps smell great!" she cheered with enthusiasm. Her tone immediately changed and dripped with venom "But the only place that is acceptable is back home...with my Mom and Dad!"

Shannon frowned and glared at the decietful judge. She was going to try to refrain from showing him tears or compassion. She promised her Dad that she would be brave. She might as well start now. Still, there was a part of her that wanted to believe that he was her friend. That in some way he was going to look out for her. Then the confusion of the last few days began to set in.

"Dear Shannon," the Judge spoke in a commanding but soft voice, "your mother violated one of the Kingdom's most sacred laws. However..."

The Judge took merely a few steps and crossed the room with amazing poise, one that made Shannon back up a step, losing some of her resolve. The other two guards simply stood at attention and did not move. When he reached the space just before her he bent to one knee, placing his helm on the floor beside him while not taking his intense gaze from Shannon's eyes.

"You have my word as a Judge that I will do anything I can to keep her from the death sentence.[/i]"

Shannon didn’t know whether or not to believe him. He had deceived her once before and he could very well try to play her into his trust to obtain any information that would accuse her parents- a tactic that he used before. She didn’t know anything about the law, she only knew the right and wrongs that she had been taught. However, Shannon came to realize that her mother was already found guilty and that the Judge was merely going to pass a sentence.

“Mr. Judge” Shannon peeped “I don’t want my mother to die…but she didn’t do anything wrong.” Shannon held her tears. “How do I know I can trust you when you’ve already tricked me?”

Shannon became more confused at the twisting of the situation. “There’s a lot I don’t understand about all of this” she answered, again with a touch of poison. “A guard put a dagger to MY throat and threatened to kill me when I didn’t do anything. I’ve told you my mom doesn’t know magic even when you asked me. But none of that seems to matter to anyone.”

Shannon started to get very angry and could feel herself getting enraged. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “If you’ve somehow saved my life I thank you. Right now, it’s not my life I’m worried about. I want to see my parents…would Kaine not let me?” Her attempt sounded desperate and she was grasping at straws for any chance to be reunited with her folks. She hoped that mentioning Kaine, supposedly a benevolent person, would sway the Judge. Fate was already in motion and Shannon felt helpless to change its course.

“Shannon,” the Judge said then paused a moment as if trying to think about how to convince the young girl of her parents guilt. “Shannon, it is Kaine’s law that your mother broke, don’t you understand that?”

“The law that forbids the use of white[/i] magic was passed unto us by his own lips. So yes, Kaine would be very angry with your mother right now,” he said.

The truth behind his words suddenly hit home with Shannon, and she suddenly realized a very important thing in all of the chaos of the past few days. She wasn’t fighting just the soldiers who took her parents captive...no, she was fighting the God Kaine himself.

Something about this didn’t seem right. There was flaw in this somewhere but Shannon couldn’t yet see it….too much was happening too fast. ‘Be brave’ she thought. Right now she was more scared than anything. She wanted to tell the Judge that if his words were true then Kaine was a false god. She knew right well that would get her into deep trouble and that even the Judge would probably not have sympathy for her proclamation.

Shannon thought quickly, she had to say something to this. She didn’t want any more trouble for her parents or herself. Then a realization came to her as easily as a sketch to her fingers. A calm passed over her and she looked at the Judge and the words flowed. “Kaine knows the truth. He knows my mother to be a good person who wouldn’t hurt anyone. He knows my father fought his whole life to continue the work of protecting the place Kaine fought for…the place we live in. There is nothing you, any priest, or guard can do can touch the truth of that. You might send them to prison but their hearts will always be free…as will mine”

Shannon waited for any volatile reaction from the Judge. No matter what happened now, she knew the Judge had no power over anyone’s spirit including her own.

And that is when the one memory of the entire ordeal that would stay with Shannon for years to come occurred before her.

The Judge kneeled before her, and in a fierce whisper that only Shannon could here he said, "I knew I wasn't wrong about you." A flash of pride and something akin to determination crossed his face, but it was gone so quickly that Shannon wasn't sure she had even seen it.

The Judge stood back up.

"Miss Shannon, we are to escort you to the orphanage where you will spend a few days before the trial. Please get dressed, my men and I will wait for you outside," he said in more of his no-nonsense typical tone.

With that, he walked back to the guards and the three exited the room.

Shannon could only blink in her astonishment. She had fully expected to be subject to a lashing of sorts but instead was given a verbal pat on the back…in relative secret no less. She wondered if there was there something the Judge was hiding from the guards. What was he really up to?

The three left the room and for all of this puzzling string of events she was unable to move. The thoughts of sorting out what was happening shot through her mind as though they were burning spears. “What exactly is going on?” she asked expecting no answers until the trial. She hoped that it would all be revealed then or soon thereafter.

She put on her black pants allowing her long, white shirt to hang over the brim. Strapping on her belt over the shirt, the bottom hem bloused out. She sat down and struggled with putting on her boots. Tall boots were always such a chore to put on but they were always very comfortable. She tied that last laces and stood up wiggling her foot to settle into the leather.

The city was fully awake and Shannon was drawn to the noises beyond. She spied out over the balcony to the bustle of Safe-Haven below. So many people out there were unaware of the tribulations that she was about to face and had faced already. She questioned if anyone else would agree with the charges that her parents were accused with. One could only hope they would not.

As she walked towards the door she grabbed her tied drawing and took a last look at the fabulous artwork in the room. A sad smile came to her slowly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to ready herself for the oncoming changes, of which many would pass she assumed. She hit the latch on the door and proudly walked into the hall.

Judge Criss walked ahead of her as the two Guards from the House flanked her from behind. As she walked along the streets she suddenly felt very vulnerable and ashamed. For the moment they left the Temple District people walking the streets began to stare. Some even whispered as the guards guided her along the main road as it climbed up the velley, through the Park, Warehouse and Riverfront districts.

They all seemed to be paying as much attention at the appearance of her guards as they did her, and she wondered if this were not a regular occurrence. It sure seemed like they were on parade.

She bowed her head and tried to not look at anyone straight in the eye. She wanted to yell out to the crowd, to tell them of the wrong-doing against her and her parents, but she knew it would only make matters far worse.

Almost half a hand later, when they reached the much less populated school district, of which the orphanage was located in, Shannon's moment of relief was brief. Although she was no longer being gawked at, she suddenly realized how close she was to her new home.

While at school, Shannon had always heard tales from the other students of what life was like for those kids who lived in the orphanage. She cringed at the thought of meeting Headmaster Shanteel, the stories of hardship dealt by the man's two fists was stuff of nightmares.

She kept her head down and tried to thing of more pleasant things as the guards and the Judge guided her down the final street that lead to her final prison. When she dared to look up she saw the visage of it’s dull-gray stone block frame above and through the cast-iron fence that stood guard around it. All too soon Judge Criss reached the gate entrance and swung it open for her to walk through. It squeaked on a rusted hinge and closed loudly behind her two silent rear guards.

As they made their way to the granite stone steps, she could see a large picture window, to what appeared to be an office, to the right of the double door entrance. Through it, she spied a glimpse of a bald man sitting behind a desk just before the Judge opened the entrance door in front of her, guiding her into a large but dark hall beyond. She watched the oak doors close, the two other guards remaining outside. The doors showed the sign of their age, and Shannon wondered how many hundreds, perhaps thousands of children had come to this orphanage through that very entrance.

“Headmaster Shanteel is expecting us,” the Judge said to her simply and walked over to a door that Shannon assumed would go into the office with the picture window.

Shannon looked at the doors. She questioned what sort of horrors waited beyond it. If the orphanage wasn’t a prison it was difficult for Shannon to tell. The building had no ornament and it was clear that it was built only because it had to be. After looking around the halls for any other kids, Shannon looked up to the Judge and asked, “So happens from here?”.

Before turning the knob to the office door the Judge replied through his great plate helm, "you meet the Headmaster, he gives you a room, and then we find you something fun to do."

With that, Judge Criss turned the knob and opened the door for Shannon to go in.

At first reluctantly, the nervous-kneed young girl walked the few steps to the door which seemed to take an eternity. She then headed straight for a leather chair in front of the man's desk without even looking up at him first.

Judge Criss walked in behind her and then stepped in front of the other leather chair. But instead of sitting down he faced Headmaster Shanteel helm to face, for the tall bald man had stood at attention upon his entering.

"Headmaster Shanteel, this is Shannon Auvryndyr. I trust you have read the file I sent you?" Judge Criss asked in a professional tone.

"I have Judge. She will have no worries during her time here, I can assure you," the Headmaster replied. He also spoke in a very business-like manner.

With that very quick foray, Judge made to leave, as he reached the door he turned and spoke to Shannon one last time, still not taking his helm off.

"Miss Auvryndyr. If you have any problems with the accommodations or the staff at this institution you are free to report to me any issue. You will be discharged and placed in alternate accommodations without question and..." he stressed the last point, "...without fear of reprimmand from anyone[/i]."

Shannon slowly nodded her understanding of the Judge’s words. Before the Judge left she asked, “When will I be able to see my parents and will I be able to give my Mom the picture I drew for her?”. Shannon held up the rolled drawing for the Judge to see…a pleading look was in her eyes.

Shannon pulled the scroll close to her…guarding the precious picture. She was almost insulted at the notion. Respectfully she said, “Thank you but I’d feel better if I gave it to her myself.” She still wasn’t sure if she could trust him and it would have far more meaning if she was to hand her artwork to her mother personally.